by John WilliamsonWhere ancient mountains are whittled down
Millions of years to a little mound
Where giant feet are fossil found
I see spinifex surfing on a dune,
The rock is redder in the afternoon
Tourists clicking madly soonWhere spring will come with any rain
A chance to flower and seed again
Forever garden risin' plain
The dangers of the wild remainAnd away up there where the wind is blown
Never before felt so alone
More aware of skin and bone
I watch the parade of human folk
Strips of rubber, cans of Coke
Making dust and blowing smokeWhere the awe-inspiring power of time
Leave some fearful, some sublime
White man finds his progress prime
Black man feels no urge to climbNow I believe we all are one
Features and creatures in the sun
Breathing the air we all belong
I have a dream I can't explain
Wattle soldiers, making claim
And paradise returns again